The Poor Lad
by MeerkatJo
Summary: The relationship between Mrs Hughes and Branson explored from the evening of the count, to the day he returns to Ireland with Sybil and maybe beyond!
1. The Aunt and Niece

**Hi all! Had this idea in my head for a while, as my headcanon is that Mrs Hughes knew a lot more about the romance between Sybil and Tom than she seemed to. I'll get on to writing more chapters for all my other stories that are in progress soon, as I've been VERY busy, what with DT coursework and other school work. Hope you enjoy it!**

**Jo x**

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><p>She stood there watching; watching him pace about the dining hall. Walking a bit, then sitting. Sit in a different position, and then standing up again. Walk about some more before returning to another seat. All the other servants had gone to bed, including Mr Carson, but Mrs Hughes could tell that the young Mr Branson was having a hard time settling himself down after this evening's dramatic events. She was sat in Mr Carson's office with a small glass of sherry in one hand, when William virtually burst in after giving a very short and faint knock; face flustered from running or walking at a pace to get here, she imagined.<p>

"William!" Mr Carson exclaimed, a hint of detest audible in his voice.

"I'm sorry Mr Carson," the young lad looked at the housekeeper opposite, "Mrs Hughes. Lady Sybil is back from Ripon. Apparently Branson drove her to the counting of the votes and she got knocked out in a fight. Mr Crawley was there too."

"Oh, for goodness sake! That Branson was a mistake from the minute he arrived if you ask me! Bringing disorder and revolution over our heads!" The old man stood up from his seat. "Forgive me, forgive, where are my manners? How is Lady Sybil? Is she conscious?"

"She's conscious, but a bit shaken and dizzy. I don't think you can blame Mr Branson though, Mr Carson." William replied, slowly retreating out the door to carry on with his duties. Mrs Hughes stood up from where she was sitting opposite with surprise plastered across her face.

"And why ever not?" Carson spoke, filling the small, but spacious room with his commanding voice.

"Lady Sybil said herself, she didn't tell Mr Branson anything about where she was really going until they arrive in Ripon. She's arguing with his Lordship right now. You can hear it from the saloon."

"We do not pry on the family's private conversations now do we William?" Carson let out a heavy sigh. "Oh well, I believe you. I'm not sure His lordship will understand though. To be honest, I'm having a hard time believing it myself. We didn't have any of this political nonsense before he arrived!" He turned to Mrs Hughes as the three of them walked out into the hallway.

"I don't think you should be so hard on the poor lad Mr Carson! As William said, Lady Sybil seems to take all the blame for this incident."

Nobody should be so hard on the poor lad. Not now she was standing there, watching him fidget and move about in such an agitated manner. You couldn't help but feel sympathy for the poor lad.

"You should try and get some sleep! Or some rest at least. Wallowing around here isn't going to do you any good!" The young man looked up from his seat.

"I have to stay here, in case I need to go fetch Dr Clarkson." His reply was short; monotonous. No sign of any emotion.

"Lady Sybil is doing very nicely now she's resting. You should do the same don't you think? Hm?"

"I can't. Too much…on my mind."

"Like what exactly?" Elsie sat down opposite as Branson looked at her again, a hint of desperation in his eyes, Elsie could tell. She couldn't quite but a finger on why, and so the thought was quickly pushed to the back of her mind.

"Like…" He looked down at his hands resting on the table, "like the fact that I'm probably going to be unemployed in the morning!" He chuckled quietly to himself.

"Oh, you're an employable young lad you are! You'll find work again soon I'm sure. In any case, you're not fired yet! You never know, his Lordship might be understanding of the situation and let you stay on, if you don't take Lady Sybil to any more election results that is!" She smiled a short, sweet smile at him.

"Possibly." The man still seemed downtrodden. Elsie looked at him for a moment, analysing every movement and every detail of his face for any clue of what is really going through his mind.

"You're still worried about her though, aren't you?" He looked up and almost glared into her eyes. The look was so honest and emotional, she felt a tear building in the corner of one of her own eyes.

"Yes."

"You've built up a bit of a friendship with her haven't you? I can tell." She noticed a small gulp trail down his throat on hearing her words. "Oh don't worry my lad, It's not a crime to be a friend of one of them lot upstairs. Take his Lordship and Mr Bates for example. Anna is close to Lady Mary, and Mr Carson is virtually her surrogate father!" A small smile escaped Branson's mouth. "In fact," Mrs Hughes moved her upper body in a bit closer, "myself and Lady Sybil were like an aunt and niece when she was growing up! You should've seen her!" Branson let out a heart-warming laugh that instantly relaxed the tense atmosphere in the room.

"What was she like?" Branson said still grinning from ear to ear.

"Well, she certainly has a bit of a rebellious streak I dare say." Mrs Hughes watched as Branson hung onto her every word. "I remember one time when she was…oh, about seven, goodness knows how she got hold of one, but she brought a tarantula in to dinner one evening!" They both started laughing. "She walked up to The Dowager and proclaimed, "Look Granny, isn't he fluffy!" I was listening in from behind the screen, and if I didn't know better, I would've said that The Dowager had fallen off her seat judging by the cry of terror she made!"

"Really? Was she really always like that?" Tears of joy had somehow found their way into the young man's eyes.

"Always! There was another time when she set Lady Mary's corset too tight and poor Doris, the head housemaid then, had an awful time trying to get her into it! Of course, Ladies Sybil and Edith were chuckling to themselves the whole time just watching!" Elsie found it a load of her mind to see him smiling like this after what had happened that evening, so she carried on. "But surely the most rebellious was when she was nine, she was friends with the farmer's boy and she walked right up to her parents after church one Sunday and declared that she was going to run away with him and marry him and there was nothing they could do to stop her! I think I was giving her too many Jane Austen novels for her to read!" The smile had been instantly wiped off his face.

"Did she love him?" he asked in earnest. The look on his face puzzled her.

"At that age? Goodness no!" He smiled to himself again at her reply.

"Don't worry, she'll be her bright and breezy self again tomorrow."

"Thank you Mrs Hughes, for putting a smile back on my face again. However, I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight, not with the image of her...her head…hitting against the glass bottles…and the floor. Mrs Hughes, it was awful."

"I know my lad. I know. Just try and get some rest back at your cottage. It's better than nothing at all."

"Thank you again, Mrs Hughes. It's a great comfort." He smiled before getting up and walking away.

She didn't care about what prejudices Mr Carson may have against him, she liked the young lad and there was no denying his sense of loyalty in his voice. The world needs more loyalty in it, she thought, and she hoped the poor lad got over whatever was truly getting him down this evening. He was usually such a lively, happy man, and there seemed to be a hint of something much deeper than worry for her safety and the safety of his job on his mind tonight. Whatever it was, she hoped that he would get over it soon, or come to her with his problems. After all, she was ever such a good listener.

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><p><strong>What do you think? Please tell me as reviews mean the world! Oh and the inspiration for the tarantula fiasco came from the FF Downton Abbey RP people. Particular thanks to Grace (WotcherGrace), Ruth (StuckInThePast) and Julia (ScubaKanga) who came up with that whole hilarious conversation!<strong>


	2. Ridiculous Thoughts

**Thanks for all the lovely reviews! I'm going to try and update more regularly now than I usually did with fanfics of mine, so hopefully you won't have to wait long for future chapters! Hope you enjoy!**

**Jo x**

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><p>The six weeks the Crawleys spent away at London each season felt rather alien to Elsie, even after all these years, she still found it one of the most bizarre times in Downton's calendar. With Mr Carson away, it was left to her to control the house and keep it in ship shape and Bristol fashion, and that was never an easy task, not with Professor Moriarty and his Lady's Maid of an assistant plotting away in the courtyard. However, this was a special year for Mrs Hughes. Her "niece" Lady Sybil was coming out in society, and she remembered seeing her off those five weeks ago; a tear forming in the corner of her eye as she saw that the bright eyed young girl with a smile that could light up the world had suddenly turned into an English rose. When did she get to be a beauty? She mused to herself. The years had flown by and Elsie was getting grey at the edges, yet this young lady who was considered her better, was only just beginning on one of the greatest adventures of her life.<p>

She never for once liked the idea of presenting your own daughter in front of a crowd of people you don't even know like a prized cow, looking for a prospective owner, or a race horse being presented to prospective betters, but whether she liked it or not there was only really one reason why a young lady like Lady Sybil goes through with all this. Marriage. Elsie let out a sigh as she pondered over the subject. It broke her heart to think that her beloved Lady Sybil was being presented to prospective husbands, with no thought of love, only fortune and title, but Lady Sybil was a strong one, she wouldn't marry unless she's in love with the man. Or so she would hope. Her mind wandered back to when she was her age and on the brink of womanhood. She thought of the young lads she knew from around Aberdeen who she suspected were half in love with her, and she thought about the man she almost accepted. She would've accepted him again if It hadn't of been for her loving home here and the friendship she'd found in Mr Carson. Who could ever need Joe Burns when you have Charles Carson? She smiled to herself.

And now she was here, sitting at the end of the staff dining table, opposite Moriarty and Irene Adler-no, that was not such a good analogy, she thought. Just the thought alone of O'Brien as the lover of the King of Bohemia-no-not a nice thought at all. With that conclusion, and the arrival of William with the post, the thought was well and truly discarded.

"Post for anyone here William?" She asked, taking a sip of her vegetable soup.

"One for Miss O'Brien"

"Give it 'ere." She snatched the top letter from the footman's hands, before reading to whom it was addressed to, and sliding it along one place to Thomas "Moriarty" sat beside her.

"I was going to say that it was on the bottom. I accidently dropped it on the floor and put it at the bottom of the pile because it got a bit muddy on the back." The footman chuckled, along with Anna, Gwen and Mr Branson who was sat two chairs down from Thomas.

"Buffoon!" O'Brien cried as she grabbed her rightful letter from the bottom of the pile.

"Miss O'Brien, that is not how you address your fellow members of staff!" Elsie gave a quick glare at the Lady's maid. William had only gotten back from his mother's funeral the day before last and already he seemed to be his cheerful self again. She understood his grief, having only just made it in time for her own mother's passing, but he was such a young boy, too young to experience death surely.

"Carry on William."

"Well, yes. I've got one for Anna…from guess who!" William gave a wink at Anna as she turned the shade of her tomato soup. "And one for Mr Branson," Elsie saw his head shoot up at the sound of his name. He'd been wallowing; playing with his soup absent-mindedly until that moment. Poor lad, she thought to herself, until now that was. "Don't know who it's from, but whoever it is, they got very good penmanship." William began to walk towards the man at the other end of the; the chauffeur's eyes practically dancing by now.

"Looks feminine to me." O'Brien declared as she sneaked a peek over her shoulder at the passing letter; Branson's stern look quickly silencing her as the letter was placed into his hands. He turned his chair slightly so that he was facing Thomas and O'Brien at a sharper angle, so not to have any prying eyes on his privacy. The conversation carried on at the table carried on as normal, before Elsie turned it towards situation in Serbia with the Archduke. Faint giggles could be heard coming from Branson's corner as Elsie spoke,

"Mr Branson?" He looked up from the words.

"Anything amusing you'd like to share with us?"

"Hm? Oh no, nothing really exciting."

"Well, I thought it must be something very engrossing to draw your attention away from the conversation we were having about the assassination." She looked at her soup again, before drawing the spoon up into her mouth. He placed the letter face down on the table, before pausing, and the placing it in his breast pocket.

"No, no. Nothing that distracting. What exactly were you saying?"

Maybe O'Brien wasn't far off? Maybe he did have a secret correspondence; some lass in back home in Ireland or in the village that he didn't want to reveal. Well, she could admire his sense of discretion, but it wasn't worth him trying to fool her. She can spot a love sick puppy a mile off, and if that was the case, then poor lad.

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><p>It was the day the Crawleys arrived back and Mrs Hughes couldn't wait to hear all the news from London. How Lady Sybil's presentation went, were there any suitors, and more importantly, had Lady Mary given Mr Crawley her answer yet? She couldn't exactly feel much in the way of friendship towards Lady Mary, but she did dearly hope that they would be happy together, it would certainly be tidy no doubt. As she stood in the saloon, watching the family disembark the car through the open front door, she thought she noticed Lady Sybil give a pleasing smile at Mr Branson and-was that a wink? Her eyes must have deceived her. After all this business with Mrs Patmore, maybe she should get her eyes checked.<p>

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><p>Her ladyship had just finished talking to her about the garden party in honour of the hospital and it was time to head downstairs-oh wait! Has Mr Branson driven off yet? She abruptly changed her direction and almost ran out the front door just as he was climbing in to the driver's seat.<p>

"Mr Branson wait!" she waved her hand in the air to grab his attention. "Wait!" She stopped at she reached the side of the car.

"Mrs Hughes?"

"I hope you don't mind me asking now, but I forgot to ask before and I've just been reminded. I hope everything is alright between you and Lady Sybil now, after…the incident." She saw the poor lad's jaw tense at her words. "I hope your friendship isn't ruined." His jaw and his face relaxed again.

"No, no. Everything's alright."

"Honestly? Because she told me herself that she lied to you about where she was going and she acted quite, well, rudely and a bit like an uppity minx when you tried to warn her. I hope you don't blame her, because she was quite distressed when she told me how she thought she had lost your trust."

"She was? I-I mean, everything's fine, honestly. She cannot be blamed." Elsie gave the boy a look that almost spoke _really?_ "No, really. I don't blame her one bit. It was all my fault."

"Now don't go blam_"

"It was all my fault for…filling her head with romantic," he gulped, "notions of politics. Not her fault. Not one bit. Now if you'll excuse me Mrs Hughes, I have to drive Renée here," he tapped the car's body, "back to the garage." He shot his words out before driving the car off round to the left, behind the trees; heading towards the garage and leaving Elsie feeling slightly dumb-struck. Renée the Renault? Oh, dear. He's formed quite an attachment to his Lordship's car hasn't he? Then a strange thought came to her mind that made her burst out loud. Maybe the love struck look in his eye earlier was over Renée! No, no Elsie. Get that ridiculous thought out of your mind. Once she'd composed herself again, she found herself thinking about why Branson had been so agitated over a simple, honest, friendly enquiry. It wasn't as if he was in love with Lady Sybil himself! Maybe he was? No! Now that was ridiculous! She had to chastise herself for coming up with that one. As she shook the thought from her head, she made her way back downstairs.


	3. One Awful Day

It had been one dreadful day so far, Elsie concluded, sitting in the staff dining hall. How her Ladyship had managed to miscarry, she did not wish to ponder. The thought was merely sickening enough, but the fact that this baby would have been the heir, that he would be the Crawley's blessed child, and that the girls would finally have a baby brother to care for, that was the truly sickening part. She remembered when her mother had miscarried when she was only eleven years old, yet she can vividly remember how distraught, how distressed and how much pain was in her mother's eyes. It brought a tear to one of her own. That poor wee babe. And now her Ladyship was going through the same emotions and the whole house with her. Somehow, that lifted her spirits ever so slightly, that even though the staff down below are a whole world away from the family above, the whole house mourns when a life is lost, even if it is a little unborn baby. Well, she thought everyone could, clearly Thomas could not, and that stirred and boiled her blood more than ever before with that horrible lad.

"Will you shut up!" She heard the valet pronunciate next to her.

"I agree, what is the matter with you Thomas!" Her anger was beginning to show. The following of what he said seemed to wash over her. To be honest, she couldn't care what he thought at this very moment, as long as he doesn't overstep the mark.

"Hark at him! Blimey, if he carries on like this for the unborn baby of a woman who scarcely knows his name," Elsie's head snapped up as she hung onto his every word. He couldn't, not now. "No wonder he fell to pieces when his old mum snuffed it." He did. She couldn't believe it. How could he be so unfeeling? Before she had time to voice her opinions, there were fists all over place as William had pined Thomas to the floor and was giving him a few hefty punches. The whole room jumped up from their chairs in shock, and it wasn't until Thomas decided to fight back did Carson and Mr Branson decide to pull the two footmen apart.

"He had that coming." Elsie heard the chauffeur mutter under his breath. She couldn't agree more. This day was going to be a difficult one.

She was just inspecting the supplies tent full of trays and coffee and tea when something caught her eye. She wasn't quite sure why the chauffeur, the housemaid and Lady Sybil had been hugging, smiling and giggling, but this certainly wasn't acceptable behaviour at a garden party hosted by the suffering Lady Of The Manor herself.

"Something to celebrate?" She enquired; eyes flicking between the three ecstatic people in front of her. Again, Gwen's words seemed to wash over her; only just being able to take them in, as she spotted something she thought…no she hoped she would never witness. Her breath hitched as she noticed Mr Branson lightly take hold of Lady Sybil's hand, or vice versa, she wasn't quite sure who had taken hold of who's, but in this circumstance, that information was entirely irrelevant. The point is that if his Lordship or even Mr Carson had been witness to this, that boy would be out of here faster than you could say "automobile". Her eyes moved back to Gwen as she responded. "I'm very happy for you Gwen, and we'll celebrate after we've finished today's work." She gave the housemaid a stern look. _There is a right time and place _she thought. She was bid goodbye with a, "Yes Mrs Hughes" and that was that, she thought, until her head snapped up at the sound of Mr Branson talking in a hushed tone. He was staring deeply into her eyes and his face was far closer than any servant should be to their employer's daughter. It was clear at this moment that she had been incredibly blind and foolish herself. It was all making sense. He was in love with her, or at least had feelings for her. On top of this, Lady Sybil didn't seem to mind one jot. She has to put a stop to this.

"I don't suppose that_"

"Lady Sybil." She exclaimed it loud, but not angrily. Both of their faces turned to look at her. What should she say now? She hadn't thought of that. Luckily Elsie was always a fast one and there was only one way to get Lady Sybil away from the chauffeur. Her family. "Her Ladyship was asking after you." She didn't expect them to believe her, and judging by the unsure looks on their faces, they didn't believe it either, but it got Lady Sybil to move and head towards the marquee where Lady Grantham was resting. The foolish boy was watching her go, with a look of awe before turning his head around, staring at the ground and letting out a deep sigh. He had to have a word with him. He was just about to set off again when she manage to say, "Be careful my lad, or you'll end up with no job and a broken heart." She looked at him with concern, She didn't want to see the poor lad in any more pain, not after the night of the count. How anguished he looked sitting there, waiting for news.

"What do you mean?" He tried to put on a smug face, one to hide his true emotions, but Elsie was no fool. She may have been a fool in not realising that Lady Sybil was this special young lass, but she could tell when he was lying. She was about to protest and tell him to get a grip, but she thought that the last thing she wanted right now as an argument. She gave out one large sigh, before heading off again. She would catch up on him later for sure.

War. It was awful. She thought that she'd heard and seen enough pain today, whether in the form of a miscarriage, an angered footman or a love sick chauffeur, but this took the biscuit. How their lives would be affected was something she didn't wish to ponder on any longer, and so, after most of the staff had gone to bed, she invited Mr Branson into her office for a long overdue word or two. Her mind had been so preoccupied with thoughts of war that she barely had any idea of what to say, but the moment was now, and she had to face it as best as possible.

"Now, Mr Branson, I'm sure you're aware of what this is about."

"It was just a mistake, I-I didn't mean to take her hand like tha_" Elsie held up her hand to stop him going any further.

"I don't need to hear excuses Mr Branson. I've experienced enough of life to know there are never any excuses…for love." The chauffeur looked up with that usual desperate expression.

"How did you know?"

"You think I can't spot a young man in love a mile off? Only," Elsie broke eye contact and began walking back and forth over the same few feet, "I thought it must have been over some young lass in the village or back in Ireland," She stood still, facing him again," not Lady Sybil of all people!" She let out another sigh.

"I know I know."

"When did you first know?" She watched him rack his brain before replying,

"Must have been when Mr Crawley and Lady Mary lead her inside after the incident. I realised I was more worried about losing her than my job." His voice got caught in his throat.

"So that was what you were really so distressed over, when I was talking to you?" He nodded. "My, my. Well, I'm sure you're aware that if Mr Carson was here now he would have the look of death on his face, and if his Lordship were here well then that would be the death of you!" Her voice was almost at a shout now, before she returned it to a gentle level. "But thankfully I am neither of those two, and I'm not going to fire you at the moment. I do worry about you Mr Branson and as I said, I don't want you to have no job and a broken heart, and I certainly don't want Lady Sybil to have one too." He looked up, with a hopeful smile on his face. "Not that she necessarily would, I guess it depends on whether she feels the same. The chances are Mr Branson she doesn't, and that is why I am warning you." He gulped heavily.

"If this gets any further then there will be trouble and pain. We live in such an ordered world Mr Branson, that as I'm sure you are aware, a relationship between a chauffeur and a daughter of an Earl is simply…absurd, to put it bluntly." He looked down with such agony in his expressions that Elsie's heart sunk. "Try and move on from her, try and find some other pretty lass and move on. There's always someone else for someone like you." She gave him a cheeky smile, before a light chuckle escaped his throat. He started to head towards the door behind her, before stopping.

"There's a war on Mrs Hughes. When the war is over the world won't be the same place as it was when it started. I'll make something of myself, I promise." He looked at her, almost pleading.

"I don't doubt that you'll succeed in life Mr Branson, but nobody can promise anything when it comes to the future of this planet." She said honestly, trying to end the conversation. He walked through the door, before turning round and adding,

"I know, Mrs Hughes. I know." Did she see a slight smirk on his face? So he was going to be foolish, well, he can't say she didn't warn him; the poor lad.


	4. If

**__Yay! I'm back! Sorry for the delay, but exam overload meant that fanfiction was sadly down on my list of priorities. I'll try and update my other stories asap as I have just two exams left (both next wednesday) and a trombone exam on the 11th, but it might not be as quickly as I would like as I'm going away on the 28th and won't be back until the end of the sunday (because on the 29th I'm at WIMBLEDON YAY!) Sorry. Excitement over. Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Jo x**

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><p><em>November 1916<em>

What a crazy day, Elsie thought to herself. As Charles – Mr Carson, she corrected herself – had said earlier, they'd lost both Mr Bates and Lady Sybil in one morning. She pitied the heartbroken housemaid that solitarily sat in her bedroom, gazing off into the distance and wondering where her love was now. She had to admit, Elsie had always had a bit of a soft spot towards them. She'd come across "romance between the staff" at her previous house, all those years ago, and she'd tried to turn a blind eye. She couldn't bare to think about it when she was such a young woman; feeling blue about having no one to care for in that way. However, now that she was an old lass with a whole family surrounding her, and now that she had the close friendship of Charles Carson, she couldn't feel blue about her spinsterhood. She'd given her full support to the couple, but sadly, it didn't look like it was meant to be.

"I'd better go and clear out the cottage." She muttered to herself before looking at her fob watch and looking out the back door in the servants quarters to see if there was still enough light left in the sky. His Lordship had asked Mrs Hughes to prepare a cottage for Mr Bates and Anna to live in after they were married, but now it seemed she would have to go and clear out all the creature comforts that she had placed in there in her heightened sense of happiness and adoration for the pair. Letting out a disheartened sigh, she began to walk round the back of the stables and towards the garage and the road on which the cottage lay. She noticed the light on in the garage and thought best not to disturb the chauffeur after such an exhausting day, but just as she was about to turn the doorknob on the cottage door, she was alerted to the sound of glass smashing coming from the garage. She frowned in confusion as she made her way over to the garage, and was startled at the sight before her.

"Mr Branson!" She exclaimed as the chauffeur jumped up straight to attention from where he was sitting on the workbench. His right hand placed a barely drunk bottle of whisky back onto the workbench, as Elsie spotted the shattered bottle on the ground; it's content spread across the concrete floor.

"Mrs Hughes! Please, I'm not drunk!" He pleaded, trying to prove his innocence by picking up a spanner from the side, throwing it in the air and catching in again. "See?"

"You may not be drunk Mr Branson, but why on earth do you look it and why have you been throwing these bottles on the floor?"

"I…I mean, oh I just…" He tried to explain as Elsie sighed again.

"Go on, pass on here." She said as she moved to lean against the workbench. Tom's eyebrows rose in surprise and confusion. "Well, if you're going to drink, it's best to have someone with you to stop you going overboard now isn't it?"

"Touché." The young lad said as he passed the housekeeper a bottle and sat down on the bench again. They sat in silence as Mr Branson watched in utter amazement at the sight of Mrs Hughes pulling of the top of the bottle and taking a large gulp in one fell swoop. He opened his mouth to warn her to take it easy, but after quick consideration, thought it best not to. She was a grown woman who knew what she was doing, and he didn't want to sound patronising now did he? He shifted his gaze away from the woman to a point on the floor as he took another small sip.

"Now, if you don't mind my asking, but what on earth are we doing in the garage at dusk, drinking whiskey from the bottle? And why is there a broken bottle on the floor?" The chauffeur said nothing; his gaze remaining on the invisible spot. "Now, as you've proven Mr Branson, you are not drunk, and it's not like a grown man to accidently drop something unless something has made him drop something," she gave him a sterner look, "or if he threw it out of anger." At this, the man's face clenched up and turned away; looking deeper into the dingy garage. "Well, if you're not going to tell me, then I'm just going to have to prise it out of you one way or another." She gave a large sigh. "Are you angry because of what someone has said to you? O'Brien maybe?" No reaction. "No of course it's not O'Brien. She wouldn't dare try to humiliate someone like you, especially without Thomas around." The chauffeur remained dead still. "Now, what else have you done today? Nothing that would grant a reaction like this." She paused again, and the Branson could see the clogs turning in her mind as something finally clicked. "You dropped Lady Sybil off at York," he tensed up again as she witness a stray tear fall down his left cheek, "where she'll be staying for two months. Is that what this is? Not being able to see her for two months?" At that moment, the chauffeur closed his eyes before exclaiming,

"It's not just that!" and throwing his whiskey bottle on the floor.

"Easy there m'lad! Or you'll have none left to share with little old me!" She looked at him with sterner eyes again. "What happened at York that you're not telling me?" He began pacing about the garage, trying to hold back his anger and tears.

"I..I mean, I…"

"What did you do?"

"I told her how I felt! I proposed basically, and now I feel so stupid!" he shouted as he kicked the bumper of the Renault, before succumbing to the pain and falling down to sit on the ledge of the car; head in hands, as he usually found himself doing when contemplating Sybil. "IDIOT!"

Elsie felt taken aback by this startling display of emotion from the chauffeur. She'd always known him to be a passionate man, both in mind and in heart, but to see this sheer emotion was an entirely new experience for her.

"What did she say to you?" She looked at him with sympathetic eyes.

"She said that she was `terribly flattered´."

"Well, that's not an outright no."

"I know but…it's what they say isn't it? Posh people, when they mean no." Elsie sighed again before moving next to him; leaning against the Renault.

"If you want to know what I think…I think that you should just try and forget her, or at least try and see her as merely a friend rather than something…you want to spend the rest of your life with." That last bit hit her the hardest. Did he really? I mean, was it even possible for the chauffeur to feel that way about a daughter of an earl? He said he basically proposed; it must be true but, even so. To think if she'd said yes! Well, his lordship would be down here right now murdering the poor lad with his own bare hands. Elsie continued, "She may be a bit of a rebellious princess no doubt, but don't you think that maybe you were asking a bit too much of her? I mean, she was taking a big enough step as it was, training to be a nurse! I'm a firm believer in love can't grow or survive when there's no hope. Maybe she's never supposed it to be possible, and so she's never felt anything as strong as what you feel for her?"

"I guess, looking back, I never thought she would outright accept me there and then…but, but I just had to tell her!"

"I know, I know. Like I said the day the war began, go home and find some sweet Irish lass. A lad like you will find no difficulty in that. You'll soon forget her and it will all just be a time when you dared to dream the impossible, and reality tore your dream to shreds. We've all been heartbroken my boy, and I'm afraid to say that it's your turn now."

"Easier said than done." Branson muttered in a slightly lighter tone.

"Well, after half a bottle of that whiskey I'm not so sure!" She chuckled; Branson joining in a bit later. "Besides, if she did care for you in that way, she would beg you to stay wouldn't she?" His head shot up at the sound of those words.

"But she did!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"She, she…when I said that I would hand in my notice and I would be gone when she got back, she asked me to stay. Also, she said she wouldn't tell anyone what I'd said to her...or how I felt."

"Oh golly boy. You've really gotten the both of you in a right muddle haven't you! His lordship shouldn't have employed you in the first place!" She smiled a cheeky smile.

"What, what do you think she means?"

"I know that if she didn't care for you, she wouldn't have wanted to you stay anyway! When a girl rejects a man she doesn't love, even if they are friends, the thing she wants the most is to never have to find herself in that position again," she thought back to her dealings with Joe, "and that usually means never having to see him again, or carrying on their friendship from afar." She moved to stand opposite him and look him in the eye. "If she wants you to stay, then she's willing to risk this whole business coming out and ruining her relationship with her family, all for the sake of being able to see you again." With this, the chauffeur stood up with a bit of a spring.

"Are you saying that you think she does have feelings for me?"

"Possibly. I mean, If you hear from her by letter within these two months, then it's clear you're on her mind. Even if she doesn't mention what happened between you in that letter, it's clear that she's been thinking about you, and if she's been thinking about you then she's been thinking about what you said to her. In short, if she sends a letter, then she's probably been thinking about you and what happened. If she does, then it probably means there's something there."

"But, if she does feel the same, then why didn't she just say it?"

"Oh my boy, there's could be a million different reasons for that. Maybe she hadn't really been thinking about it? Maybe she doesn't know she feels the same way herself?"

"Maybe."

"I mean, put yourself in her position for a moment. You're staying away from home and your parents for the first time in your life, for two months, to train to do work that will be ghastly and awful, you're young, your fairly naïve compared to most girls your age, and then your good friend the chauffeur tells you that he loves you and wants to marry you. How else would you expect her to reply other than no? Not forgetting that marrying you is no quick decision. She would be cast out from her family,"

"She might never see them again." He replied sullenly.

"Exactly! She would have to give up so much. You can't expect her to make that kind of decision on the spot, even if she did care for you!"

"So what do you advise I do?"

"Wait. Just wait and give her time. If she cares for you, she'll come around and knowing her…if she makes up her mind that she wants to marry you, then nothing will stand in her way my boy." A smile erupted on his numb face. "And I'll be here as always, picking up the pieces of the scandal and braving the storm!" She said with a giggle in her voice.

"If." He replied.

"Yes. If."

* * *

><p>The staff were sitting, eating their breakfast a fortnight later, when Mr Carson came swaggering in with a pile of mail in his hands.<p>

"One for Anna." The head housemaid's eyes lit up in hope of news from her beloved, but her face drooped again as she opened it to find a letter from her sister in Leeds.

"Three for O'Brien!"

"Er-thank you Mr Carson, but there's no need to comment on my personal mail!" The sour-faced woman stood up and accepted her letters.

"And that is no way to talk to a higher member of staff Miss O'Brien!" His anger evident in his voice as she sauntered off to the courtyard. "And a letter for Mr Branson." The chauffeur's eyes jumped up from the newspaper, to the letter, to Mrs Hughes, and back to the letter again.

"Thank you, Mr Carson." He accepted as he stood up and walked away from the table whilst faintly smiling to the housekeeper. She shook her head in disbelief. So it's happening is it? She'd better batter down the hatches before it's too late then.

* * *

><p><strong>So what do you think? Maybe Mrs Hughes was more of a catalyst than we think! :D Reviews are love!<strong>


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